


What will we do with a drunken sailor

by trajektoria



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crack, Femlock, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Piratelock, Romance, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 03:38:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trajektoria/pseuds/trajektoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many things the crew of a pirate ship may do with a drunken sailor and John Watson, the new medic on board, is about to learn that the hard way. Every cloud has a silver lining, though. In this case, the silver lining being the captain's daughter, who is not only beautiful, but also full of secrets. Femlock sorta but not really with some crack and a bit of smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What will we do with a drunken sailor

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the song Drunken Sailor by Irish Rovers. You can listen to it [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGyPuey-1Jw)  
> The things the sailors say at the beginning are the excerpts from the lyrics.

“What will we do with a drunken sailor, lads?” First mate Gregory Lestrade asked briskly with a smirk, rubbing his hands together impatiently. An occasion like this didn't occur often, after all. It was a perfect opportunity to keep with tradition and be a little mischievous at the same time. 

The whole crew had gathered around a doctor, who was snoring loudly with one of his arms snaked around the mast and with the other pressing an empty bottle of rum tightly to his chest. The newest addition to their little Caribbean family, a young medic called John Watson, who only yesterday signed on the infamous Black Umbrella – the notorious pirate ship run by the fearful and elusive corsair Mycroft Holmes, working for the Crown - definitely couldn't hold his liquor. It was a custom among the sea dogs to “dilute” the young blood by making them drink alcohol and party until they collapsed. If at five am the next morning the victim was still sleeping like a log, the rest of the crew was morally obliged to play a prank on him. And that was exactly what they intended to do. 

“Shave his belly with a rusty razor!” Boatswain Anderson proposed with a vengeful smile, since that was the treatment he received when he was starting. 

“Put him in a long boat till his sober!” exclaimed coxswain Sebastian Wilkes, grinning like a shark. 

“Stick him in a barrel with a hosepipe on him!” Quartermaster Dimmock guffawed at the mental image. 

Some other suggestions were shouted in the cold air but one idea triumphed over each and every one of them. 

“Put him in the bed with the captain's daughter!” Mike Stamford, the overweight cook, demonstrated an uncharacteristic stroke of genius. 

The whole crew fell silent like on cue and then hummed in an ominous unison: “Uuuuuu!”

Poor John Watson was blissfully unaware what the fate had in store for him.

* * *

The doctor groaned, rolling to his other side in a faint attempt to escape the sunlight that was mercilessly attacking his pupils. Judging by the intensity of the light, it was early morning, but John didn't feel like opening his eyes yet. Definitely, not just yet, five minutes more was all he asked. His head felt heavy, the bed was warm and comfortable, and his hand was nicely draped over a bony frame right next to him. John instinctively pulled the mysterious body closer to him, buring his face in a mop of curly hair, inhaling the fresh scent of soap. A content sigh reverberated in the room.

In that moment John's dazed brain began to process that something was amiss. The sailor's brows came together in confusion. He didn't remember falling asleep with anyone, he only recalled boozing with the crew. Was he drunk enough to end up in some prostitute's bed without knowing about it?

John opened his weary eyes gingerly only to find himself face to face with Sherlock Holmes, the captain's daughter, who was laying beside him, covered with the duvet up to his chin. 

“Hello,” she purred softly but with a lopsided smile, clearly anticipating great fun. Her voice was quite low, but seductive and sending a shiver down John's spine.

John gasped like a drowning man and quickly pulled back, shifting to the rim of the bed as far from the skinny woman as possible. 

“What? How...?” He mumbled in shock. “What am I doing here?” The sailor asked in desperation, his eyes shooting long glances all around the room as if he was searching for an escape route. He was fairly certain that his days were numbered. The captain would skin him alive for being caught _in flagrante delicto_ with Sherlock, the apple of his eyes. 

“A few of your moronic colleagues brought you here at dawn, thinking that I was asleep. They were so loud – cackling and talking in raspy voices with obvious excitement – that they could have woken a corpse, not to mention a person with such acute senses as me,” Sherlock explained matter-of-factly, but seeing John's distress, she added in a kinder tone. “Don't worry, it was just a silly joke. No harm done. Mycroft will never know. I won't tell him, John.”

“Thank you...” John managed to say, too shaken up to notice that somehow she knew his name. There was even bigger fear raising in his chest and clutching his throat with icy cold fingers. “Did we...?” He trailed off, gesturing between them anxiously. 

“Oh, God, no!” Sherlock laughed whole-heartedly, but then rolled her eyes. “You were dead to the world, too drunk to do anything.”

John let out a sigh of relief. Good, at least one thing to worry about off the list. The doctor's reaction wasn't to Sherlock's liking, though. Not one bit. She seemed deeply offended.

“Why are you so glad? Don't you find me attractive?” She huffed in disdain, the expression on her face indicating that she'd start sulking any second now. 

Understanding belatedly his mistake, John had to think quickly to avert the impending catastrophe. Hell had no fury like a woman scorned.

“No! No, you're very attractive!” He assured her quickly with an eager smile. Well, he didn't even have to lie, that was God-honest truth. She was beautiful. Not a standard type of beauty that poets sing about in their sonnets, but an exotic charm that drew John in like a magnet from the very moment he saw her walking on the deck to her cabin in her pale blue dress. She was tall; much taller than John, he observed to his own dismay, but wasn't really deterred. She had big mercurial eyes in the shape of almonds, pale skin and prominent cheekbones, so sharp you could easily cut yourself on them while caressing her face. All of that along with her rather short curly hair made her look a little boyish. Oddly enough, instead of making her rather repulsive, that quality only increased John's interest. He started to wonder how her small breasts would feel under his fingers, but the thought was really inappropriate right now and made him shift nervously. 

Seeing right through John's dilemma, Sherlock smirked. The doctor's curiosity would be satisfied soon enough. 

“You think so? Am I really pretty then?” Sherlock's voice changed to an alluring baritone. John didn't even have time to ask himself what the hell was that about. In one swift motion Sherlock moved to sit astraddle on John's hips, the captain's daughter face hovering just inched above the doctor's. The sailor's expression bore the marks of utter confusion, whereas his body was petrified from shock. His eyes were fixed at Sherlock's, fearing that if they wandered somewhere else, he would completely lost his bearings. 

“Oh, John, I've been waiting for so long...” she sighed, her hot breath ghosting over John's lips. Not really knowing what was going on anymore, John lifted his head for a brief moment to join their mouths together in a hesitant kiss that was a subtle question if they should continue. Oh hell, if he was getting in trouble for bedding the captain's daughter, he might as well do it. Sherlock didn't seem to have anything against it, since she smiled brightly, kissing him back with real sweetness. John gasped in delight. 

“No one spoke with me for so long, I was bored out of my mind! I couldn't stand it anymore, being locked in my cabin all the time! Thankfully, I have you now...” she cooed, unbuttoning John's shirt. He had a distinct feeling that something was not quite right, but he forced his brain to shut up and enjoy the moment. When John had been divested of his upper clothing, Sherlock giggled, placing a soft kiss on the doctor's chest.

“Well, let's see now what kind of man are you...” The mysterious words should have alarmed him, but John's mind and body were dazed, not caring in the least about anything not connected with a burning promise of physical pleasure. 

“The best one,” he assured, licking his lips. She only laughed. 

Sherlock was dressed only in her white nightgown as John found out empirically when she lifted it up and took it off over her head, tossing it carelessly on the floor. John could see her in her birthday suit as she sat provocatively on his thighs. The sailor's eyes nearly popped out of his sockets. Sherlock... well, she wasn't a she at all.

John's jaw dropped open as he understood the gravity of the situation. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Sherlock was a man! He didn't have any breasts and well... the crotch area was rather telling and didn't leave much to the imagination. For a long moment they were just staring at each other – John completely nonplussed, Sherlock getting rather self-conscious with a blush creeping up his neck and cheeks. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all. Did he misjudge the doctor? No, impossible, his deductions were never wrong. 

John was first to broke the awkward silence. 

“You are a man,” he stated the obvious. To his credit, his tone was rather casual, not at all condemning, which was quite an achievement, considering the circumstances. He was unusually calm as if he was preparing mentally for a very difficult surgery. 

“Yes, I am. Are you... bothered by that?” Sherlock asked carefully. 

John giggled in response, finding the whole situation bizarrely hilarious. Since he was apparently going insane, he might as well enjoy it. He was a bad boy, after all. Good boys didn't join a pirate ship. 

“I don't know, really. I'm just... surprised. Surprised... and curious why do you dress as a woman on a ship full of sea dogs. Not the smartest move.” 

Sherlock sighed with exasperation to mask the relief that John didn't run away in terror. He slid off John, resting beside him. He wasn't apparently intimidated by the fact that he still was stark naked. 

“Do you think I want to?” he huffed, raking his hand through his curls, which made them bounce in a rather endearing fashion. “I have no other choice. I wanted to leave home and dressing up was the only way.”

“I... don't understand,” John's admitted, feeling lost. 

Sherlock lifted his eyes heavenward as if John was a particularly daft specimen of a human being.

“It's quite simple actually. Firstly, Mycroft is not my father; he's my older brother,” Sherlock paused, giving John time to absorb this revelation. As expected, the doctor didn't take it well.

“What?!” John exclaimed, completely taken aback. “But... But he looks so much older than you!”

“True. His luxuriant beard is adding him years as expected. I'm glad it have fulfilled its role so remarkably,” Sherlock stated with mild irony. 

“Alright, okay. So he is your brother and you're not his daughter. I get it. Whatever. Still, I don't understand why did you brother force you to wear a dress and pretend to be a woman!”

“As I told you before, it is quite simple in fact. My brother began his magnificent corsair career at a very early age – I was still a child - but quickly gained a formidable reputation. Droves of honest sailors and pirates alike wanted to be somehow affiliated with him. What he aimed to get was to win their favours but without giving anything precious in return. What could be a better way to achieve that than using his younger brother? I was so desperate to leave home and the mundane tedium that I agreed to his terms without hesitation. I was to pretend that I'm his daughter and flirt with every significant captain on the horizon, making them fall head over heels in love with me. Mycroft was beguiling them with the vague prospect of marriage, having them all in his grasp. Who wouldn't want to be a son-in-law of a powerful captain Holmes? Obviously, the holy union would never happen for rather understandable reasons,” Sherlock sniggered and added with certain pride. “But I was magnificent at my job as befitted a genius.”

“And are you flirting with me now to make me fall for you?” John asked with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. Sherlock replied with laughter.

“No. However, you have no reason whatsoever to believe me. Why are you even asking? Is my charm working on you, even though I am a man?” He teased, but the lilt in his voice was rather hopeful. He was sick and tired of being alone on this ship.

John decided to ignore the question for the sake of his dwindling sanity. He knew he should have been more scandalised and appalled by having a naked man right next to him, but somehow revulsion wasn't the sensation he was experiencing right now. Far from it. 

“This story sounds completely unbelievable, so probably it must be true...”

“Good deduction.”

“Staying alone and flirting with dull strangers does sound boring, though. It must have been driving you mad.”

“Oh, you have no idea...” Sherlock muttered tiredly. “So what now? Are you going back to your mates?”

“Do you want me to?” The words left his mouth before he could think properly about them. It was a dangerous game he was about to play, but, to his own surprise, he didn't care much.

“No...” Sherlock answered after a moment of inner struggle, rolling to his side so that his naked body was pressed against John's. He slipped his thigh between the doctor's legs, putting a well measured pressure on his crotch. 

“Are you sure about this?” John managed to ask in a hitched voice. His hand rested on Sherlock's supple bottom, caressing the curves gently. His fingers were leaving red marks on the man's pale and delicate skin, even though he wasn't violent. John could hardly maintain any control over his body. A man or a woman, it didn't matter; John desired the captain's kin.

Sherlock answered with his mouth, catching John's lips in a passionate kiss. Their tongues quickly found each other and joined in a swift dance, tasting and probing. Sherlock hummed in the back of his throat, freeing John of his trousers and pants. It was time for the doctor to take the initiative. He rolled them over, landing on top of his lover. His body was on fire and his mind in a state of frenzy, he couldn't wait any longer. He licked Sherlock's neck, causing him to squirm, as he pressed their throbbing erections together, grinding them against one another; slowly at first, enjoying every twitch of pleasure on Sherlock's face, but gradually harder and faster, getting lost in the sweaty rhythm and loud groans. The climax racked his body sooner than he anticipated; John came profusely on Sherlock's stomach and the man followed soon after, needing only a few more strokes to fall over the edge. They lay snuggled to each other afterwards, Sherlock's head leaning on John's chest. They didn't talk much, just basked in the afterglow, equally surprised that all of this actually happened and a little anxious what the future would bring. 

“I have to go now. The others may get suspicious,” John said gingerly, not really wanting to leave the warm bed and the beautiful man beside him. 

“Will you come back?” Sherlock asked, hating the imploring tone in his voice. 

“Of course,” John smiled at him gently. To sweeten the temporary parting of ways, he kissed tenderly Sherlock's messy hair. “You have ensnared me and God help us all.”

“I'm not sure anymore who is the snare and who the victim,” Sherlock smiled lightly, nuzzling his face against John's neck. He was certain only of one thing – everything would change now. If for better or for worse, only the time could tell.


End file.
